Scars
by Suchan and Twelve
Summary: CH 8 UP FINALLY! Asa has a lot of scars from his days as the Bloors' spy, from his childhood, some no one else can see. Just as Asa's pulling his head back above water, someone unexpected pushes him back in the deep end. SLASH APXMB, slight onesided APxOC
1. One

Scars 

A CRK Fiction starring Asa Pike, Manfred Bloor, and Maurice Bloor (OC)

By Silver deFamine and some help from Suchan, who isn't much a fan of drama.

Rating: M for thematic elements, trauma, violence, gore, plotting, abuse, you know, the usual.

Warnings: SLASH. Which means boy on boy. Lemony fresh….is there any more ways to describe it? Homosexuality. Yeah. That's about it. So anyway, if I get any flames, I'm sending you my Dear Flamers letter and putting you on my wall of flame at my website, which you can find on my bio. And so, in summary, Flames are not appreciated unless they're Leo, Aries and Sagittarius.

Some notes before we begin: Someone's revelation (I'm sorry I've forgotten, it's been a while. It was mentioned during the progress of _Cheaters_, which was ages ago.) that I "play the runaway Asa" card a lot hit me like a load of bricks. I thought about it for a long, long while, and realised I loved my fictional public school of Wilmington High too much, and Dale along with it. So there may appear some more chapters of _Magnetism_ or maybe an entirely new slightly AU story.

However. Asa will not be "running away" this time. I've also made some changes to their characters and will be introducing an OC (maybe a few) later on.

So. This is going to probably be a lot darker than my other fics, so if you want to comfort yourself with a flashlight while you're reading it, that's your choice.

Homophobes and antifags, this is your last warning. Stay out of my way and I won't have to verbally abuse you. Everyone else, I really hope you enjoy this first attempt at (actually) branching out into a new genre.

* * *

Scars: Chapter 1

* * *

Asa winced, turning a page in his math book. The wounds on his hands from that fight with the dog the other night were channeling pain through every vein in his body. Stupid dog. Stupid Eustacia. He hated every one of Charlie's stupid great-aunts. Who knew if he was going to be able to have full use of his hands ever again?

Manfred looked up at him suddenly, and Asa glanced at him. But the head boy only looked away, back at his own homework. Asa returned his thoughts to his homework for a moment or two before wondering what Manfred had wanted. Maybe he was just making sure everyone was doing their homework.

Manfred had sort of double standards. Rule breaking was unforgivable for everyone else, but he felt himself above the law. He'd justified this to Asa before. "In order to keep the peace, some people have to free themselves from the constraints of rules that everyone else has to keep to." Manfred had looked at him with an exasperated expression. "It doesn't matter if it doesn't make sense to you now. Just… keep in mind, there's sometimes we need to break some rules to keep people in line."

Asa had nodded, not fully understanding, but trusting Manfred's judgement. Whatever. It was dinner time, and he was hungry.

A cough brought Asa back out of his memories and into the King's Room, where he sat, twirling a strand of his shoulder-length red hair around an unbandaged finger. He looked up to where Billy Raven was having a bit of an allergy attack or something. Then he settled down, and Asa looked back at his book.

Zelda was staring longingly at Manfred. Kind of disgusting. Zelda was a bitch, and Manfred hated her. Not out loud, of course, but muttered when she'd walked away after being stupid at him. Still, unrequited love sucked, and Asa almost felt sorry for her. Almost. Not quite. Lop off her arm first, then maybe.

Maybe not even then. Asa corralled his wandering thoughts and forced himself to focus on his algebra homework. It was hopeless. He was hopeless. He'd have to talk to Mr. Wilson tomorrow. Maybe find a tutor or something, as long as it wasn't Zelda.

The bell [clock? sounded for the end of homework hour and everyone packed up to leave. "Asa," Manfred said quietly. Zelda was hovering near the door, obviously waiting for Manfred, after everyone else had gone. "Shoo," he said, waving her away. "Asa and I need to talk…alone."

She pouted, but left with a sing-song, "I'll see you later, darling!"

"Will you knock it off?" Manfred shouted after her. But the door closed almost mockingly and Manfred let out a sigh of disgust. "Stupid bitch," he muttered.

"Per usual," Asa said, unconcerned. "So what's up?"

"How are your hands?"

Asa was a bit taken aback by this. Manfred hadn't ever taken an interest in his—or anyone else's—well-being before. "Um, healing…I guess." He frowned. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Fine," Manfred said airily, reaching out for Asa's hand. Asa let him take it, unwind the bandage. Manfred frowned. The skin around the stitched-up lacerations was bruised purple and an almost-healed green in some places. "Jesus. Vicious dog."

"Well, it was kind of a big dog. Almost as big as…" he hesitated, then finished lamely, "Well, you know." _Me._ He didn't want to say it, make anything awkward by mentioning his endowment. It wasn't exactly his pride and joy. Asa desperately wished he was normal. But he was stuck, and so were the rest of the endowed. _Guess I'd better just lump it then._

"The Hound of the Baskervilles?" Manfred had a rare, wry smile on his face.

Asa smiled and shook his head. "Not near that big," he corrected as Manfred wrapped the bandage back around his hand. "Maybe a large wolf." Manfred was still holding his hand. "Um, Manfred?"

"Oh," he said, letting go of Asa's hand. "Sorry. Anyway. Still no sign of the Bells?"

Asa sighed. "No. I'll let you know if I learn anything."

Manfred nodded. "Good night, Asa."

"Night." Asa watched as Manfred left, then looked back at the table. He stuffed his math book in his bag and slung it over his shoulder, heartily confused by what had just taken place. Manfred wasn't ever that warm. Indeed, the boy was the human icicle, as lacking in warmth as Anne Rice's vampires; cold as the dark side of the moon. Why should he care about anyone? It wasn't like he had to. It wasn't like his family much cared about _him_.

Asa shut the door to the King's Room behind him and started down the hallway towards his dormitory. There were children shuffling around still, and hurried footsteps behind him made him shift over to the left side of the stairs. Zelda pushed past him, snuffing heavily as though she were trying not to sob.

"Whoa! You okay, Zelda?" Not that he cared, but anyway. She turned around furiously and glared at him, tears dripping off her cheeks.

"Don't talk to me, you…you pig!"

Asa straightened up indignantly as she stormed off. "Well!" he muttered. Wonder if Manfred had finally gotten through to her that he hated her. That was probably it. There wasn't much else that would make Zelda cry like that. He didn't like her at all, but he felt kind of sad for her, anyway. He knew what it was like to be hated by someone you loved.

:P

_Asa hid in the stairwell, in the shadow of the wall, listening to his parents fighting. It wasn't anything unusual, but tonight's conflagration was threatening to burn down the house. He felt worse than usual, because they were arguing about him._

"_Why, Celia? He can't even go to a goddamned school without being laughed at." Mom had been upset over Asa's getting in a playground fight at kindergarten. "It's not like it's anything usual."_

_There was silence for a while. "You don't care, do you?" Asa's father didn't say anything. "You don't care about him, or about me." It wasn't a question. There was a sob._

"_Celia…"_

"_No! You don't! You never did! Your own _son,_ Alex!"_

"_Alright, you want me to admit it?" His father's voice got louder. "Fine! I don't care about him! The kid's a freak! Yellow animal eyes, pointed ears? No wonder he's the laughingstock of the whole fucking playground." Asa cringed, his eyes filling with tears. He'd never heard his father use that word before. Or call him a freak. Little Asa hugged his knees to his chest. "Can you really blame me for not wanting to be seen in public with that…that _thing?_ Jesus _Christ_, Celi—"_

"_Out." His mother's voice was quiet, and commanding, and seemed to be holding back her fists, her words, her sobs._

"_Celia—"_

"_I said, GET OUT!" she screamed. "You get out of this house and don't you dare ever show your face again."_

"_You can't kick me out of my own house."_

"_WATCH me." It was then that Asa sneaked back up the stairs and went into his room. He hid under his covers. The soft sliver of moonlight coming in through a crack in his curtains lit up a tear on his face. He wiped it away, but even more returned to take its place. _

_A few minutes later, his door was pushed open, and a shadow fell across the bed. Asa waited, fearing that it would be his father. "Asa, baby?" It was Mom. Asa pulled the covers off his face and looked at her. "Oh, baby, I'm sorry. Did we scare you?" Asa just hugged his mother closely, as tight as his little seven-year-old arms could. Celia held him gently, stroking his hair. After a while, she said, "Daddy's gone away. He won't be coming back for a long, long time."_

I know,_ Asa thought. But he didn't say it. She hurt enough as it was. He just clung onto her for dear life._

_:P _

Asa flung his bag down by his narrow bed, pulled off his shirt and shoes and climbed under the covers. "Lights out!" snapped Matron, and flipped the switch, drowning the children in darkness. Asa's eyes quickly adjusted to the sliver of moonlight coming in through the window, through the cracks in the curtains. He turned away from the window, towards the rest of the dorm and pulled the comforter up over his shoulders. Closed his eyes painfully.

He hadn't thought about his father, Alex Pike, for a long, long time. He wondered what he was doing now, where he was. "Probably has a nice normal wife and beautiful normal children," Asa muttered bitterly.

"Who?" came a sleepy mumble from the next bed over.

"Wasn't talking to you, Julian. Go back to sleep."

"Aw'right." Julian's eyes closed, and Asa began counting all the bedposts in the room to get his mind off—_shh. Enough of that._

Forty-two, forty-three, forty-four…

:P

End Ch 1.

What did you think? I've been trying to keep to a minimum of 1500 words (of actual story) per chapter so they'll be longer. I hate tiny chapters.

So. If you liked it, review, if you didn't, let me know if there's something could be done better. If you're going to flame me, just hit your damn back button and save me a few minutes, would you please? Jesus. Anyway. Thanks for reading.


	2. Two

_Scars_  
by Silver deFamine 

Disclaimer: Woops, didn't do one last chapter. Sorry. Asa, Manfred, Gabriel, etc, all belong to the nice Mrs. Jenny Nimmo, as well as the unnamed city (does it even have a name?) and Bloors' Academy. Celia and Alex Pike and the McGoverns are all mine, though.

Warnings: Slash. It hasn't reared its head yet, but it will in this chapter, so I advise you homophobes to not get too attached to this story. Also, drama, abuse, violence, plotting and truly evil actions by someone who truly doesn't know any better. I guess this carries over into later chapters. I'm getting tired of writing this down for each one.

Notes: Alex Pike is an OC, but also a terrible father and selfish bastard who thankfully won't appear again in this story except in Asa's memory. I guess Celia is an OC, too, since Asa's parents really aren't mentioned at all in the books. Whatever. The main OC is yet to come, though.

Even more notes!: Ayanami! Good to hear from you again! And I'm so glad to be back. I was busy, busy, busy this past year. Junior year is hell in a handbasket with ribbons. Ugh. Anyway. Just glad you liked it.

Alright. Off we go.

:P

Scars: Chapter 2.

:P

Asa lingered in the library, looking for a book on the Hundred Years' War for his history paper. His searches had directed him mostly to the second floor, where the truly heavy and dusty books laid in wait for the non-allergic and most adamant historians. Or for someone with a due date looming over their head for a paper they hadn't yet started.

"Woodbloom, Woodbloom, Wood… there you are." Asa pulled a thick, faded tome off a shelf and immediately regretted it. His hands hurt so desperately he almost dropped the book. A pair of pale, thin hands grabbed it before it hit the floor. "Oh. Manfred. Thanks."

He shrugged. "Couldn't have Mme. Pearson waking up from her coma, could we?" Asa chuckled.

"S'pose not."

"Hundred Years' War?"

"Yeh." They both sat down on a couch facing an enormous coffee table where a large book was already open. "What are you up to?"

"Research." Asa put his glasses on and peered closer at the tiny type on the yellowed page.

"Red King stuff?"

"Yeah. Mostly hereditary habits of endowments and suchlike." Manfred looked up at him, with an expression that was to Asa as foreign as Japanese tea ceremonies. "I didn't know you wore glasses." Asa shrugged, slightly embarrassed. He tore them off and stuffed them back in their case.

"Just for reading," he mumbled. Manfred's face softened into almost a smile.

"You didn't have to do that. They look good on you." Asa would have fallen over had he not been sitting down. What was that? A compliment from Manfred Bloor, who was feared and infamous for his cold and rigid, ruthless, and bad-tempered nature. Asa knew his eyes were widened.

Manfred frowned at him.

"Are you sure you're feeling well?"

Manfred looked back at his book. "I wish you'd stop saying that. All I said was your glasses look good on you," he mumbled, his voice hinting at a sullen anger.

"Sorry," Asa said. "It's just," he continued, then stopped. "You don't normally compliment people like that." He bit his lip, then added, "Or at all." Manfred looked at him, black eyes searching Asa's face. Then a faint blush tinged his face, and he glanced hurriedly round the room, then back at Asa.

"Can't I do what I want, Asa?" Manfred was trying to sound dangerous, but Asa thought he just sounded a little unsure of himself.

"Sure," said Asa, feeling a little unsure as well. "Um," he said, looking back at the two books open on the table, then back at Manfred, who was watching him with a feverish look in his eye.

"Asa," Manfred whispered, looking at him helplessly. It took Asa a while to realise that Manfred looked scared. "Maybe you just deserved a compliment."

Asa smiled, a bit painfully. "Thank you."

Manfred blinked slowly, searching for words. "Look, Asa, most of my life, there hasn't been anything worth living for. My father hates me. Ezekiel is a mad, selfish old man. I've been drowning in this world of hate, making people suffer, imbuing myself with darkness." Asa found it hard to breathe. He waited.

Manfred closed his eyes for a moment, then looked back up, gently taking Asa's hands in his. "You've got this sort of light, Asa; it's been bringing me back up out of the darkness. I didn't recognise it for a while. But being with you makes me happy." He smiled lopsidedly; Asa smiled half-heartedly, a little frightened, back at him, willing his heart to slow down. "I guess you've noticed. You've been melting a heart that's been frozen since birth."

Asa couldn't think of anything to say. He licked his lips nervously.

"I'm sorry. I just couldn't say nothing anymore." Asa nodded. Smiled faintly, his lower lip trembling. He burst into tears. "Asa, what…?" Asa shook his head, sniffling. But he was smiling.

Manfred took him gingerly into his arms. "I think that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me," he said, breathing slowly to stop sobbing. "I'm not used to being loved." He looked up at Manfred. The boy was smiling. It wasn't forced or malicious. It was a genuinely happy smile.

"Well, get used to it, Asa."

:P

Asa grabbed Manfred's hand and pulled it away from his hair. "Sorry."

Manfred looked confused. "What's wrong with you?"

"I don't let people see my ears." Asa flattened his hair back over his ears. He felt slightly ashamed. Manfred had only been going to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. It would have been kind of sweet, but he wasn't about to let Manfred expose his ear. No, he'd had them hidden for years now; gotten good at it, really.

Manfred looked put-out and kind of angry. "Not even me?" he said quietly. "I don't get it. What's wrong with your ears?"

"Nothing," Asa said vehemently as some first-years passed them, then dragged Manfred behind a pillar, in the shadow of a staircase. "Look," he whispered, "I don't let people see them, because, well, they're not really…" He struggled to find the word. "Human."

Manfred grin was coupled with an are-you-serious look. "And you think that'll bother me? Jesus, Asa, I've been dealing with the supernatural since childhood." Asa pulled his hair up into a ponytail, watching Manfred worriedly. He reached out and turned Asa's head to the side, smiling faintly.

"Real funny, yeah," Asa mumbled angrily, noting Manfred's twitching lips.

"No…they're cute, Asa." He shook his head at the wolf boy. Asa's ears were elongated and came to a point some four inches past his hairline, curled under at the top; half-human, half-wolf. Still velvety soft like human ears. He reached out, touched one ear gingerly. Asa forced himself not to draw away at this contact. "They're you. I can't see how you'd be worried about me hating them."

_I can. _Asa let his hair back down, smiled reluctantly. "Well, thanks."

"I won't tell anyone," Manfred said quietly, kissing Asa's forehead. "I'm just glad that's cleared up, now. Let's get to dinner, though, we'll look suspicious if we're too late." Asa smiled in relief.

:P

It was early morning. Last minute homework had been cleared away, and Asa and Manfred were lazing on the couch in the library, one of their more preferable hideouts. Next to no one came to the library much anymore, and if they did they'd be more likely to stay on the first floor. No, this was definitely a good place to hide.

Manfred turned Asa's hand over in his, tracing a jagged, shiny scar with his finger. "Those didn't heal up very well," he murmured. "Must have been deep."

"I was lucky to get out of there with my p—hand intact," Asa said quietly. He didn't like thinking about where his many scars came from. Some were self-inflicted, like the nicks in his hands and legs where he'd gone climbing the cliffs behind his house to get away from everything that reminded him of anything and just sit on a ledge he'd found for hours before his mother got back from work.

Like the rough patches on his knuckles where he'd tried street fighting for a while to get out all his anger and frustration. He'd gotten fairly infamous, but, y'know…those days were past. He was sick of being angry. Manfred pressed his lips to Asa's palm, and Asa smiled.

Despite being a cold-hearted bastard who could hypnotise the life right out of you, he was really sweet sometimes. Asa wouldn't have said it aloud, but Manfred made him melt. Knew exactly how to turn him on. There were times when Asa wanted to drag him into the nearest closet, and well, you know, but there were people around, and there were roles to play. Evil, dangerous head boy, his just as dangerous, lupine sidekick.

Asa sighed contentedly into Manfred's neck. He felt Manfred's lips brush his hair, then a sudden intake of breath. Asa turned around, which was hard to do while sitting on the sagging couch on Manfred's lap. It was Gabriel Silk, staring dumbfounded with his mouth open, on the verge of dropping all his books.

But Asa was ready before Gabriel said anything; he glared. "Silk, you tell anyone and I'll personally see to it that your head makes a permanent departure from your neck," he hissed.

Gabriel nodded, then ran back down the stairs, taking them three at a time.

Asa sighed. "Jesus. Stupid kids."

Manfred pulled him back onto his lap. "Don't worry about them, Asa," he mumbled into Asa's soft, red hair. "They're not worth it."

"But they could tell someone. You think they'd care if I tore Silk apart?"

"I wouldn't." They shared a mischievous grin. "But I think Father might."

Asa pouted, then settled back into Manfred's lap. "Whatever. I can still scare him." He looked up. Manfred was smiling faintly at him. Asa grinned back and reached up to kiss him. No one had ever been close enough to Manfred to know that he wasn't really as cold as he seemed. Quite the opposite, in fact. Manfred's lips were warm, and soft. Asa smiled through the kiss. He began to pull the hair elastic off of Manfred's ponytail, but a bell sounded, making them both jump.

Manfred kissed him again, quickly, and took back his hair elastic. They both gathered up their books reluctantly and went downstairs and out of the heavy oak doors carved with ornate vine patterns and the big imposing word "LIBRARY". Beautiful doors. But then again, reasoned Asa, things looked more beautiful when you were in love.

"Meet you after class," he whispered, kissed Manfred on the cheek and took off, not wanting to be late again for history. Dr. Gwain was not one to be crossed, and Manfred had made him late twice already… "Well, maybe this time was my fault," Asa muttered to himself, grinning stupidly, and composing his face before he shut the history room door behind him, just in time to hear an ear-splitting bell sound.

"Thank you for joining us early today, Asa," Dr. Gwain said, a smirk playing at his lips.

"Sorry, sir," Asa mumbled, pulling open his book.

Hm, the Hundred Years' War. That has some tasty memories attached… 

:P

End Ch. 2.

…yep. Hopefully the OC will stop being so lazy all the time and maybe show up next chapter. He's probably still lingering in his dressing room, fussing with his gorgeous hair. Egh. Anyway. Review?

-heart-


	3. Three

_Scars_

by Silver deFamine

Notes: I've thrown in a bit of humour. I love messing with the younger kids. Just makes everything three times better. Also, I feel like this chapter sort of sucks in the moving-along department. I don't feel like… it's moving quite along its rails like I want it to. So if you'd like to point anything out to me, feel free. I'm looking for ways to edit. This chapter may be taken down for re-editing later, so don't be alarmed. Anyway. On with it.

Also: Thanks, Shaya and Ayanami, for reading this. It really warms my heart. And for once, those words spoken in that exact sequence had no trace of sarcasm. So it is with my heart full to overflowing that I finally present you with this, the fruit of my endeavours, Chapter Three to this story, Scars.

Thank you. Enjoy.

:P

_Chapter 3_

:P

"Ew! You saw them _what?!_"

Gabriel winced and said again, "Kissing. On the couch in the library."

"Knew there was something wrong with them," Fidelio said cheerfully. "Peas, Charlie?"

"Yes, and Asa threatened to tear my limbs off if I told, so don't let it get around. We're not allowed to lock the dormitory doors." Poor Gabriel looked terrified. He wished suddenly he hadn't let it slip. He was rather fond of his limbs.

"Don't worry, Gabe," said Charlie, "we'll keep it to ourselves."

"Please, because I'd really like to keep my arms."

:P

There were whispers in the hallway. Giggles. Sighs of the younger girls feeling their first real stirrings of lust. Asa was furious. "Keep moving, you lot!" he said loudly, shocking many into silence. "And remember the rules, no talking in the hall!" What made him even more furious was a very tall torso running smack into his face.

"Sorry, my bad. Are you alright?" The voice was velvet soft, deep, incredibly alluring still while only being friendly. Asa looked up from clutching his nose. And let go of his face. His mind went blank.

Finally he shook himself. "Fine," Asa said faintly, "just fine."

The angel winked at him and murmured, "You sure are." Asa followed with his eyes as the tall boy in the green cape walked away. A hand shook his shoulder.

"You there, Asa?" Asa turned round and looked up at Manfred, staring down at him coldly. _It's an act_, Asa knew. _There's people around._

"Right here."

"Good, let's get to class." Manfred grabbed his hand after making sure no one was left in the hall, but Asa couldn't help looking back to where the boy had disappeared seemingly without a trace. Hm. He'd ask Manfred about it later. Right now he was going to relish the stolen contact, the warmth of Manfred's hand pressed to his. The soft, quick kiss on his forehead as Manfred swept away to his own class.

Asa smiled, and turned the doorknob.

:P

It was old, slightly cold and drafty, dusty, with a slight scent of rotting furniture. It was perfect. It was also in the upper floors of the old part of the mansion, where the floors weren't the safest things in the world and bats staked out their homes on old wooden beams criss-crossing the ceiling. There was a mood of romantic medieval notions, what with the candles and old books left by the room's previous occupant. The desk was covered in a thick layer of dust with books full of illuminated, yellowing pages, an inkwell with dead, dry ink sticking to the bottom; a quill lodged fast in the black quagmire, the soft, grey leaves of the feather weighed down with its oppressor, dust.

There was a giant, ebony chair stationed behind the desk with a high back, carved woodwork, and crumbly upholstery fastened to it with iron pegs. It was gilt here and there on several details of the forest landscape, a river of trees and vines carved along the arms and back of the chair. It was here in this giant chair Asa luxuriated in the warmth of the setting sun, and dozed off contentedly, a book crinkling slowly closed on his lap.

He awoke much later, when the light had coagulated like fire-coloured blood on the rim of the horizon, barely visible out of the high, narrow window, and illuminated only the highest tips of anything in the room. to a soft rustling sound. The handle of the door jiggled. His eyes opened wide, and he leaped under the desk, praying that the darkness and the dim light of candles would be enough to conceal him. No one was supposed to know about this place.

Not even Manfred knew. Asa had been going to tell him, of course, but never got around to it. He prayed it wouldn't be Dr. Bloor. It would be the crook for him. Bloor already suspected something was going on between him and Manfred, but by God, if they were caught Asa would be dead by nightfall, and Manfred much worse off.

As the door swung open nearly soundlessly, with a small creak before it hit the desk, Asa shut his eyes and prayed soundlessly to some unknown God he'd been told about but never much believed in. If you can't make them go away, at least don't let it be Dr. Bloor.

A cough. Asa stopped breathing. There was a sheen of cold sweat under his arms and on his face. He was surprised the intruder couldn't hear his heart racing. He felt like the madman in _The Telltale Heart_. "Jesus. Stupid allergies are going to start acting up again."

Asa sighed quietly in relief. It was only Manfred.

"Hello?" Manfred called. Asa stood up carefully, out from under the desk. Manfred stared at him, eyebrow cocked. "Having fun down there, Asa?"

Asa rolled his eyes. "Are you alone?"

"Yes." Manfred motioned to the closed door. "So you've been here all evening," he said quietly, embracing Asa gently as the last feeble rays of sunlight dissipated. A candle on the desk flickered dimly, making them look like shadow folk or ghosts. It caught Manfred's eye suddenly. "With candles? This entire place could go up in flame, and then where would we be?"

"Well, for starts, I'd be dead," Asa said cynically, pressing his lips to Manfred's ear.

"Asa," Manfred whispered, exasperated. He stroked Asa's hair and released him finally. "Come on. You missed dinner. Now we're supposed to go and do homework."

"I suppose we _have_ to," Asa mumbled, blowing out the candle and leaving his secret room behind.

"You never told me you came up here," Manfred said quietly, taking Asa's hand and leading the way down the steep, narrow stairs.

"I was going to, soon," Asa admitted, slightly regretful that he hadn't told Manfred before. "The room's sort of intoxicating." They stopped at a heavy wooden door held fast with iron clasps and hinges. In the darkness, Manfred raised Asa's hand to his lips and kissed it gently.

"So are you," he whispered. Asa giggled, smiling broadly, though invisible in the non-existent light.

"I thought we had homework to attend to, sir," Asa whispered as Manfred wrapped his arms around him, under his dark, plum-coloured cape. He uttered a soft "Mm," of pleasure as Manfred kissed his neck, warm lips making him tingle.

"I think we might have better things to do, Asa," Manfred muttered into the curve of Asa's shoulder; biting, kissing, caressing. Asa could feel himself melting again. He smiled pleasurably.

"Like what?" he teased.

"Like getting back to your homework instead of making out in the dark like a couple of stupid faggots," said a furious voice. Manfred and Asa both jumped violently; they had assumed they'd been alone.

"Who's there?" said Manfred imperiously. A lantern was brought out of a cloak and illuminated the face of Dr. Saltweather. Manfred blanched, and Asa felt his stomach drop with dread, a cold sensation creeping up his spine. "What are you doing down here?"

Dr. Saltweather looked at the two boys knowingly. "I could ask you two the same question, but I'd hardly like to know." It dripped with sarcasm, but Asa was too scared to care. His mind tripped over itself trying to think of something, quick.

"L-look, sir, we'll just leave, and this meeting won't have ever happened, right?" he asked.

Dr. Saltweather arched an eyebrow, but nodded. "I can't say I wouldn't mind erasing this meeting from my mind," he said airily. All three of them exited the heavy door and parted ways, Dr. Saltweather down the main hall and Manfred and Asa toward the king's room.

"Jesus God," Manfred sighed when the Dr. was out of earshot. "That could have been a disaster."

"Very well could have been, if not for my talented tongue," said Asa. He gave a sultry smile as Manfred's gaze lingered on his lips. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Manfred. Now, if anyone asks, I'd taken a nap before dinner and forgot to wake up, and you'd only just found me."

"Right," said Manfred quietly with a snort, "Then you'd better fix your sex hair, Asa." Blushing scarlet, Asa ran his fingers through his hair and tried to straighten it out. Manfred chuckled darkly, and threw open the doors to the King's room.

"And where have _you_ been, Asa?"

"I was asleep, Zelda, thanks for caring. What a pal," Asa said cheerily, plunking down at the table with a book he only just realised was the one from the attic room. _Aw, shit._ Now he'd have to put on his glasses. He took them furtively out of their green case, and went to put them on.

Suddenly, the glasses took a flying leap at the wall and made a sharp tinkling sound as the lenses shattered on the wall. Asa glared at Zelda, who looked shocked. "What the fuck did you do that for?"

"_I _didn't!" They glared at the twins Idith and Inez. "What is your problem?" The porcelain faces stayed blank, and Asa got a sudden weird sense of being at a sick and twisted sort of tea party where the dolls were alive and out for blood.

Joshua Tilpin raised his eyebrows, but said nothing, looking down at his book. "Yeah, well," Asa began to grumble, getting up to pick up what remained of the glasses, "they're kind of expensive, you know, you don't have to be a couple of assholes any old time you feel like it." The kids around the table looked at each other, at Asa, and glanced at the twins, whose glaring eyes were focused on Asa, who scooped up the spectacles and was examining the lenses. He felt himself crushed back against the wall.

Furious, his yellow eyes glinting, he shook free and stood his ground, emitting a low, feral growl that gave Zelda the shivers. The twins even looked faintly frightened; but soon they recovered.

However, Asa noticed, the practical jokes settled down that night; he looked under his bangs at Manfred, who was smirking at him. "Very nice," he mouthed. Asa winked at him and went back to his homework.

:P

Outside, a figure in a deep green cape chuckled and swept away down the hall. "Very alluring," he muttered, and smiled maliciously.

:P

Asa stepped into the dormitory amidst a small swarm of confusion; people rushing about, going to brush their teeth, drying wet hair, sitting around complaining about schoolwork. Asa flopped down on his bed and stared at the ceiling. There were exactly 160 ceiling tiles, not including the half-tiles near the edges, which totalled out to an additional 35 whole ones. He sighed, waiting for lights out. He wasn't much in the mood for chatter, or even getting ready for bed.

He wasn't looking forward to the weekend when he'd have to tell his mom his glasses were broken. She was fed up enough with Dr. Bloor and "his stupid prison disguised as a school" as it was. There was a soft _whumph!_ from the bed next to him. Funny. No one slept there.

"What, Julian?" The boy was always bugging him about something. A dark voice chuckled, and Asa immediately recognised it as belonging to the boy in the hallway. He turned his head, looked over to where the slim figure was sitting shirtless in flannel pajama pants, grinning at him.

"No, my name's Maurice, but you can call me whatever you want," he said. _Maurice._ Asa took in the long, dark brown hair spilling around his shoulders, dark, almost black eyes sparkling, his thin face stretched with a warm smile. Incredibly toned chest. _Wow._ The boy was just plain _beautiful_. "You okay?"

"Yeah, fine," Asa said, returning to his senses from a long way off. Rather, he was disconnecting from them and trying to behave himself. Think of Manfred. Look, but don't touch. That had always been his policy. "New kid?"

"Sort of," said Maurice, with a lopsided smile.

"I'm Asa," Asa said, sitting up. His head swam a little bit, but he still held out his hand, as was polite. Maurice shook it, looking genuinely interested now. Matron snapped off the lights and Maurice's hand dropped from his.

"Well, good night, Asa."

"Night." Asa settled into his blankets. His mind was whirring like a carousel high on Pixy Stix. _One, two, three…_ He turned away from the new boy, the pretty one, Maurice, and turned his thoughts away from him as well, his fingers shaking slightly with adrenaline. Oh, Jesus. _Twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven…_

:P

End Ch. 3.

:P

Hm, yeah. I think I'll step it up a bit next chapter, we need to _move._ Oh, well. At least Maurice has come out of his narcississtic coma to make his appearance... being pretty has its downfalls. oh, well. Point out things that could have been done better, things I could add/take out/revise, etc. Maybe if homework stays nice I can have chapter 4 up by the end of the week (around the 7th?) Maybe.

See that purple button? Yes, thank you!


	4. Four

Scars 

By Twelve du Lac-deFamine

Notes from Suchan: Silver's changed her name to Twelve du Lac-deFamine, so Twelve it shall be. Not a big deal, I suppose, it could have been worse. She could have changed it to Rhodekill. Or something obnoxiously punny. Anyway.

The real note is: Our apologies for the shortish chapter and the long wait for an update. The next one will (hopefully) be longer. I just didn't want to ruin it by forcing it to be longer. I felt like the best place to break off was the last bit there, before, well, before the next part. Anyway. I guess this will make more sense at the end.

Hats off to: Ayanami, ShayaCatalyst, you guys make writing worthwhile. For this you have my undying gratitude. D

:P

Chapter 4.

:P

It was getting harder and harder to keep his mind off the new boy, Maurice. Jesus, even his _name_ was sexy. He caught himself as he said it under his breath, caught himself smirking, relishing the feel of it on his tongue. He frowned immediately. NO.

Manfred looked at him oddly. "Alright, Asa?"

"Yeah, fine," Asa mumbled, sleepily warm in Manfred's arms in the giant, carved chair. They were sitting up in the tower at five o'clock in the morning, watching the sun's first feeble rays poke up over the windowsill. "Peaceful," he said. "Nice way to start off a Saturday."

"You know what else is a good way to start a Saturday," Manfred mumbled into Asa's neck, biting him quickly, gently. Asa smirked.

"It's not a good way to start a Saturday when you're having brunch with your boyfriend and his _mother._ Grandma Florence will probably be there, too." Manfred stuck out his bottom lip dramatically. Asa casually ran a fingertip down the side of Manfred's face.

"It's also a good way to _end_ a Saturday," he breathed, grinning like the devil. "If you catch my meaning, darling."

Manfred's eyebrow raised. "Oh. Well. I'll hold you to that, then."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Asa purred, reaching up to kiss him as the dawn broke most spectacularly over the tops of the trees and flooded the old study with golden, pinkish light. Asa leaned against Manfred's lean yet slightly scrawny bare chest, placed his hand over Manfred's slowly thudding heart. "Not from _you_."

:P

"No, no, not all black, Grandma Flo will have a stroke and it will be all your fault."

"Asa," Manfred drawled, pulling off the black button-down, and shaking his head at the rest of his closet (which was mostly black). "If she's seen anything of your wardrobe aside from your uniform, she'll probably think I'm a saint."

"Fine saint you'll make, what with your exclusively homosexual tendencies and all." Asa dodged the hanger Manfred threw, laughing, and walked over to where Manfred stood, frowning at himself in the mirror. "Your eyes are almost blue. Why don't you go with the blue?" Asa stared at Manfred's irises, trying to detect any speck of colour and failing spectacularly.

"My eyes are black, Asa, you know that. Black like my twisted, evil soul."

"Oh, don't say that in front of Mum, she'll never let me see you again," Asa pouted.

"You'd find a way," Manfred muttered, tucking the end bit of the tie in place. "There. Better?"

"You look delicious," said Asa, pulling on his tweed cap and winking at Manfred's reflection in the mirror. "Let's go."

:P

"Sooo," said Grandma Florence, "Manfred, you said you were going to St. Peregrine's next year. What are you studying?" Manfred shot a glance at Asa before looking directly at Grandma Florence, who, bless her, saw only a blackish smudge where Manfred's head was.

"Drama. I'd like to be a stage actor."

"Ohhh," said Grandma Florence, halfway to herself.

"Don't quite have the face for movies. And I'm not quite shallow enough, I'm afraid," Manfred continued. Asa laughed.

"Well, I couldn't tell about your face, dearie, everything's a bit of a blur now, even with my new prescription…" Celia and Asa smiled helplessly at the ceiling. "These potatoes are fantastic, Celia, I don't know how you do it," she warbled.

Manfred raised his eyebrows at Asa, but said nothing. Merely smiled. Celia was aglow with pride. "Oh, they're nothing, Mom, you know, your old recipe."

"Mine! Really! Hm. Couldn't even tell." Asa muttered something and Celia shot him a dark look. Manfred cleared his throat.

"Um. Can someone pass the potatoes? I think I'll go for another helping," he said. Celia smiled warmly at him.

"Of course, Manfred, you're such a dear. Salt?"

Asa rolled his eyes and Manfred kicked him under the table.

"Yes, thank you, Mrs. Pike. That would be just _lovely._"

:P

Asa wriggled his butt in the leather seat of Manfred's hot, black sporty car. "_Nice _ride, Manfred. Asswarmers in 'em, I expect?" he asked innocently.

"You know it," Manfred laughed. "Nice, though, in the winter. But it's not like I really need them, seeing as I've got you." He loved the way Asa's mouth dropped open in disbelief. The way both of their minds never really ever left the gutter. The way Asa's volatile blush flamed in his cheeks when he'd heard a particularly smutty comment, like it did now.

The way his passionate emotions were always quick to flare…

"Manfred Ignatius Bloor!" Manfred grabbed the hand that came up to playfully smack him.

"You did not." Asa smirked at him, mildly unconcerned.

"Did what?"

"You did _not_ just use the middle name." Manfred glowered down at Asa, whose smirk was slowly sliding off his face. "You know I hate that."

"I don't suppose 'sorry' would cut it?" Asa said hopefully. Manfred sighed angrily.

"We'll see," he growled, turning the key in the ignition.

:P

They walked, hand in hand, inhaling the crisp, dry fall air and watching the leaves bursting in firey colours, finally falling dead and brown to the ground. Asa had wrapped a dark orange scarf around his neck, and was watching the blue sky, seemingly miles and leagues and light years away from this tiny piece of the crust of the earth, as meaningless in the greater scheme of things as dust.

He started as Manfred growled suddenly. A lone figure was approaching them on the sidewalk, tall, lanky and smiling gorgeously. "Fancy meeting you two here today."

"Maurice."

Asa looked at Manfred. "You've met?"

Maurice smiled gently at Asa. "'Course we've met, Asa. We're brothers." The nasty look on Manfred's face told him he wasn't at all happy about that.

"_You've _met?" Manfred inquired, looking lethal beneath his black, knee-length coat. Asa suddenly dreaded telling Manfred that—

"Oh, yeah," said Maurice airily. "Same dorm, right next to each other. Ever so kind, Asa was," he continued, staring at Asa as though wishing to reach out and just absolutely ravish him, even with Manfred standing there next to them, "ever so polite, just introduced himself to the new kid with no friends."

"Well that's great," said Manfred, who sounded like it wasn't at all great in any way, shape or form, "then we'll all be best chums, won't we? Asa and I have to be somewhere, so you'll excuse us."

"Of course." With a slight incline of the head, the merest of sarcastic bows, he dismissed them and strode gracefully away. Asa watched him walk away, resisting Manfred's measures to make him walk faster.

"Manfred, you're hurting my arm—" Manfred finally released him. Asa stared at him accusingly as he sat down on a rock ledge outside a shop. "You never told me you had a brother."

"Well..." Manfred looked away at the warm fingers of the setting sun alighting on the tops of the buildings on the street. "I forgot."

Asa looked at him, saying wordlessly that that was the biggest load of rot he'd ever heard. "Manfred, people don't 'forget' things like that." Manfred glared at him savagely.

"I suppressed the memory of him, is that what you want me to say?" he yelled. People walking past turned around and gave them looks. Asa glared at them, then looked back at Manfred, who was becoming increasingly moodier. "And why shouldn't I? I haven't seen him in seven years, why should he crop back up now? Just when everything was going so well," he finished quietly, to himself.

Asa approached him carefully, grasping his hand and turning it over in his own hands. "What do you mean?" Manfred said nothing for a while, let his black gaze roam the windows of the shops, the cars and busses hurrying past. He finally turned back to Asa and wrapped an arm around the shivering boy. The sun was setting.

"I don't like people who are supposed to be dead showing up and overshadowing me, having the past repeat itself, having everything I love stripped away from me again." Manfred looked at Asa's shocked face and smiled bitterly. "That's what I mean." His face softened. "But don't worry about it right now, Asa. This is you and me time."

"People who are supposed to be dead?" Asa whispered. Manfred placed a finger on the boy's lips, and shook his head.

"Shh. Stop worrying about it. Let's go hit the Blue Moon before they close." As they got up to head for the coffee shop, Asa found himself worrying intensely about what Manfred had said, those loaded words spoken so carelessly. _People who are supposed to be dead…_ Was he talking about Maurice? Worst of all, why was he supposed to be dead?

But he wouldn't bring it up with Manfred again unless he absolutely had to. And definitely not tonight. Manfred's iced pumpkin mocha with whipped cream would perk him up, and then they could celebrate surviving the first half of the semester the way they liked to celebrate...

:P

End Ch 4

:P

Decent? Let me know…… I know it's kind of short, but the muses forced me to stop there for fear of ruining the chapter.


	5. Five

Scars 

By Twelve du Lac-deFamine

Chapter 5

Double-post here, that should make you happy. Sorry about the long, long wait. It's just that life is hell and posting is a heimlicher affair. n.n;

:P

It was terrible, Asa thought, having to watch Manfred go through all of this mixed-up emotion at Maurice's return. He was even more moody, angry and irritable than he had been before. More evil, it seemed. Manfred was even starting to value his father's opinion of him far more than anything else.

It wasn't hard to see why. It wasn't an endowment, but Maurice charmed everyone, from the most hard-assed teacher to the smallest of the first years. He had a way of talking to you that made you feel important, smiled at you like you were the most intimate of friends, a sparkling laugh that made even Zelda crack a smile.

Poor Zelda, Asa thought, forcing his thoughts away from Maurice, she still hadn't gotten over the whole him and Manfred thing. Asa made it a point to be nice to her when he could. Sometimes she was just a complete and total bitch to him, which didn't help much. One of their worse days had ended up in a screaming match down one of the corridors and each having to be forcibly removed by the prefects.

Asa allowed himself a wry smile, turning a page in his book. He looked up and stole a glance at Zelda, immersed in her book, her pale face reflecting the hues of the illustrations in her textbook. Her black eyes were scanning furiously back and forth.

He forced his eyes unwillingly down at his Algebra II textbook, feeling worthless. Math. Pfft. He hated math. He was horrible at it, despite the efforts of countless tutors, teachers, after-class study sessions and well, there just wasn't much he could do. The ironic bit was that Asa's mom was an accountant. He had no idea what his father had done for a living, other than resenting Asa's abnormality.

Asa frowned suddenly, brows furrowing in a terrible grimace. Alex Pike. Bastard. He hadn't ever written, called, or sent a birthday card since the day he'd left. Probably trying to pretend he'd never fathered such a disappointment of a child. Asa's insides were churning with hate. He sighed, trying to calm himself so he didn't blow up in the King's Room. As much as he tried never to think of it, the memories and absolute _hatred_ rose up in him of their own accord.

He hoped he never saw that loser Alex Pike ever again, or he'd probably kill him. Flesh and blood meant nothing to those who walked out on their family, and so that particular piece of flesh and blood meant nothing to those who were left behind.

Asa stopped, ran his fingers through his hair. How the hell had he gone from Manfred to Maurice to Zelda to that bastard? He shook his head, and tried to focus on his algebra. He scribbled _(F) 5y__+ 3x/17_ on the page in his notebook and tried to shut down the rest of his mind, which was met with relative unsuccessfulness.

:P

It was only the second week of October, and already Asa's math grades were plummeting like shooting stars and flaming just as spectacularly. He sat in front of Mr. Hesperon's desk and fidgeted, trying desperately to make sense of what he was being told. Finally, after about an hour of meeting with little progress, Mr. Hesperon sighed and took off his glasses.

"Look, Asa, I think you need to consider taking up tutoring again. I'm trying as hard as I can, and I know _you're_ trying as hard as you can, but I think," Mr. Hesperon said, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "you might be better off if someone can show you how to do this from a different angle. Maybe one of the senior class math students could help you out."

"Sure," said Asa, knowing deep within his heart that it wouldn't ever help. He was a hopeless cause, because he didn't get numbers and operations, and he had a sneaking suspicion that he may very well have some sort of mathematical declination. He used his intuition and the right side of his brain too much, he knew that. Perhaps that had something to do with it.

"I'll let you know tomorrow who can tutor you, and when, okay?" Mr. Hesperon said, smiling at the defeated, deflated Asa. "Don't give up hope, Asa. If you're willing, you can wrangle it."

"Thanks, Mr. H." Asa picked up his books and left dejectedly. _Probably end up as a janitor or something,_ he thought, and, clutching his book to his chest, made his way slowly back to the dormitory.

Soft footsteps fell in line with his. Asa looked up into Maurice's worried face. "You alright?"

Asa shook his head, no. "Just failing math, is all," he said quietly. They passed a group of second-year girls, who giggled and swooned at the sight of Maurice. Maurice rolled his eyes.

"Oh," said Maurice, "do you go to tutoring at all?"

"Mr. Hesperon said he'd find one for me because apparently I'm unteachable," Asa grumbled. "I just hope he doesn't find someone who hates me."

Maurice smiled softly, patronisingly. "Who would hate _you_?"

"Plenty of people," Asa said, "all sorts of people, students, teachers, the headmaster. Zelda especially, and the Porcelain Twins don't count because they hate everyone."

Maurice grimaced at this. "They are pretty nasty," he conceded. Asa laughed softly.

"There's a bunch of us think they're robots and not really human at all," he said jokingly, then stopped beside a window. Night had fallen and the sky was an almost-black midnight blue, peppered with bright spots of stars and set like a jewel in the east was the moon, full and round and ivory. Asa sighed, frowned, and placed a hand on the window. "Given the kinds of people here," he continued, turning back around, "it's not so far-fetched." Maurice was looking at him with an odd expression on his face. Asa smiled, confused. "What?"

Maurice seemed to shake himself out of a reverie and smiled back. "Nothing. Wondering if we should dunk them in water first chance we get," he said with laughter in his voice. "Of course, they could have a waterproof rubber coating that could protect them from water and others from electrical shocks…"

Asa shook off the odd sensation he had gotten when Maurice looked at him as they continued their robot theory conversation into the dormitory. Maurice was probably tired, like every other student in the school, and was probably also prone to spacing out.

He put it up to his imagination that night then, when he swore he could feel Maurice watching him fall asleep. _Getting paranoid,_ Asa thought,_ hang in there, buddy, soon you'll be stark raving mad like Mr. Ezekiel. _Asa snorted softly. Oh, great. He turned over and stared out the window. He noticed Maurice smiling softly at him in the moonlight. Asa smiled quickly, then shut his eyes.

Aw, shit. Ceiling tiles were futile when pretending to be asleep with eyes closed. He'd try invisible sheep tonight. One, two, three…

:P

Asa smiled broadly and put his book away as Manfred walked up the stairs to the second floor of the library. "Hey."

"Hi," said Manfred tiredly. He smiled half-heartedly and flopped back onto the couch, reaching out to trace the side of Asa's face.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't sleep much anymore," Manfred said quietly. "I took some Benadryl last night and fell asleep early, I forgot to tell you." He looked intently at Asa's golden eyes; he'd always been fascinated with the colour, the flecks of brown and green in the iris, the black slit of pupil, so feral and alluring.

Asa looked just as deeply into Manfred's black, black eyes. He'd always wondered how it was possible for eyes to be so completely devoid of colour, but there they were. A desolate, onyx black like charred wood, the black of a new moon, the bleak darkness of a room a second after a candle was blown out, before your eyes adjusted. Asa leaned forward suddenly and kissed him. "That's alright," he said, "I was talking with Mr. Hesperon."

Manfred's face was sympathetic. "Math again?"

"I can't _do _it, Manfred!" Asa said, sighing aggravatedly. "I don't get numbers. Pictures, diagrams, sure. Give me words and pictures and I can do it…but this is all abstraction and I don't get it at all. Mr. H. said I need someone to show me it from a different 'perspective,' is what he said." Asa stared placidly at the towering shelves of books around them, then turned back to Manfred. "And you've already tried to help me."

"You might be a lost cause," Manfred joked, earning himself a half-hearted punch on the arm. He smiled, then pulled Asa into his lap, leaning his head on Asa's. "Mmm…I missed you yesterday. You were always dashing off to class and your study sessions…"

"Sorry," said Asa. "But it is school."

"Yeah, school sucks," agreed Manfred. He leaned down and brushed his lips against Asa's forehead. He had a terrible sense of foreboding, but was unable to say what for. The bell rang suddenly, and they grimaced at each other. "Free periods seem to be getting shorter and shorter…"

"Or maybe they're just trying to keep us apart," Asa said darkly. He slung his bag back over his shoulder and followed Manfred to the heavy oak doors of the library. Suddenly he smiled. "But we're too clever for that, I think," he said, smiling as Manfred leaned down to kiss him full on the mouth.

"Much too clever," Manfred whispered, and pushed the doors open.

:P

"Ah, Asa, there you are," said Mr. Hesperon as Asa walked into the empty math room for his extra help session. "I've found you an able tutor. Maurice deVere has graciously offered to help you with your math, on Tuesday and Thursday evenings."

Asa stared at him open-mouthed for a moment, then managed to grasp a shred of composure. "Sure. Thanks, Mr. Hesperon." Mr. Hesperon smiled.

"Don't look so worried, Asa, Maurice is excellent in the field of math, and in fact a very able teacher. I'm sure you'll be able to make some progress with him." Mr. Hesperon looked so hopeful Asa didn't want to tell him that it might not be entirely possible for him to have private tutoring sessions without some major personal relationship problems. _Jesus Christ. _

Even more than that, Asa didn't want to tell Manfred who his new tutor was. Asa had a bad feeling that could very well induce an explosion of equal or greater magnitude than the detonation of the atom bomb on Hiroshima…

:P

End Ch. 5

:P

Oh, boy... eh. Reviews?

ALSO: Pretty please, will everyone who reads this go read my story One Last Dance over at fiction press and tell me what you think? www . fictionpress . com / u / 582520 / ...without spaces. THANK YOU!


	6. Six

Scars 

By Twelve du Lac-deFamine

Chapter 6.

:P

Asa came to a stop beside a large stone in the garden, and sat down on it, the cold from the rock seeping through his cloak and then through his uniform pants. He stared sullenly around at the other students, who seemed to be in fabulous moods, even that stupid Charlie Bone and his entourage, who were always moody and plotting about something.

Asa leaned his head back and stared up at the sky, letting his gaze brush over the clouds but not really seeing anything in particular. How in hell was he supposed to tell Manfred who his new tutor was? And that he'd be having his first session tonight?

Manfred's warm arms settled around his shoulders and he felt the head boy's lips brush his ear. "Hello, love." Asa smiled warmly at him.

"Hello. You're late today." Manfred grimaced.

"Father wanted to talk with me about something." Asa waited for a minute, then decided Manfred wasn't going to elaborate.

"Oh."

"Did Hesperon find you a tutor yet?" Manfred asked casually, sitting down beside Asa on the rock. Asa bit his lip. Manfred had a bad habit of asking all the wrong questions at the wrong time. He leaned down and tried to catch Asa's gaze. "Asa?"

"Yeah, yeah he did." Asa looked out at the garden helplessly, dreading what was to come.

"So…who?"

Asa paused for a minute, bracing himself, then said, "Maurice deVere." He looked over at Manfred, whose face had frozen. "Yeah, I thought it would be something like that."

Manfred turned away, scowling at the children milling about the courtyard. "Something like what?"

Asa shook his head and said quietly, "Like this. You getting furious about it." He stared off at the crumbling wall a few feet away. A mouse scurried over the fragments and disappeared into a hole. He waited for Manfred to say something.

Manfred was trying desperately to control his temper. It was a long while before he choked out, "I don't want that bastard anywhere near you."

Asa sighed deeply. "I know. But everything else has failed, Manfred. Can't we at least… give it a shot?" He tried to catch Manfred's eye, but the boy turned away. "Please." There was a decrease in the din as the schoolchildren filed back inside, but Asa kept his eyes on Manfred's hunched, tortured form. "You could sit in on the sessions if you'd like, I don't think anyone would object."

Manfred looked up finally. "Fine. One lesson. I will be there. And if he tries anything stupid I'll kick his ass and I'll tutor you myself." Asa smiled finally. He kissed Manfred's forehead, where a frown and furious tension was carving ridges.

"Thank you."

"Bell's probably rung," Manfred growled, and walked quickly towards the heavy oak doors, Asa stepping lightly behind him, feeling slightly lighter than he had before.

It was funny, though. He felt sort of …ill at ease, maybe. A slight, pale sense of foreboding. But Asa shook it off as Manfred smiled at him outside the History door. They kissed quickly and Manfred swept off to his own class.

Asa turned and stopped abruptly. Mr. Hale was frowning at him. "That's a detention for PDA, Mr. Pike. Inside, if you'd still like to learn something besides Making Out 101."

Asa cringed, and took his seat to the nervous laughter of the rest of the class. Ah, whatever. It had been worth it to see Manfred smile.

:P

Asa set down his books at the table in the library and waited impatiently. Manfred was sitting in a chair somewhat behind him so he could keep an eye on Maurice de Vere. Asa drummed his fingers distractedly on his math book. The door opened, then shut. Asa looked up.

Maurice was smiling at him. The smile dropped as Manfred strode forward. "Hi…Manfred…"

Manfred stared at him stonily. "I'm going to be sitting in on Asa's tutoring sessions to keep an eye on you. I'm not asking. I will be."

"That's fine," Maurice said, regaining some composure. He looked down at Asa. "Ready to start?"

Asa sighed, and opened his book. "I guess so."

Manfred sat in his chair and watched them with his expressionless, clear black eyes.

:P

"I think I get it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Asa grinned, scrawling the answer into his notebook. "Five point seven."

Maurice looked impressed. "Nice work, Asa." Asa grinned. Maurice looked at his watch, and raised an eyebrow. "Well, looks like we're done here for today. It's almost dinner time."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it. That's what I'm here for. See you next Thursday." With one last charming smile, Maurice gathered his materials and left. Asa stood and walked over to the chair where Manfred sat with his head in his hand, looking interminably bored. The head boy looked up.

"Ready?"

"Yeah. See, it wasn't that bad," Asa said, grasping Manfred's warm hand with his inhumanly cold one. "He wasn't anything but friendly."

Manfred rolled his eyes. "He would have been more 'friendly' if I hadn't been there, Asa. The way he looks at you is predatory. I've seen it before. You wouldn't be halfway safe alone with him."

"Oh, Manfred," Asa said, shaking his head. "I think you're just a little bit jealous. Remember how you were when Julian McGovern asked me to the dance?"

Manfred smiled a little bit at that, remembering. "Yeah. Still, though, Asa," he said, holding the door to the cafeteria open for him, "you should be careful. Neither of us know his true intentions."

Asa shrugged, and walked lithely into the cafeteria. He didn't much care at the moment. He had performed one of the world's most magnificent feats: _algebra._

:P

End Ch.

Sorry for the short one, but I didn't want to keep you waiting another three weeks. Hope you don't hate me. I'll have another chapter up after Christmas hopefully. Keep your fingers crossed.


	7. Seven

_**Scars  
**Chapter 7  
Twelve du Lac-deFamine_

Notes: (written at the time that I lost the file...thought you might want to know what happened...)

Right now, I am extremely hysterical. I tried to upload the file to FFN tonight, and my computer fucked up the file. I can neither open it nor recover it. My arms are shaking with indignation.

I have tried everything.

And to no avail.

_Breathe._ So. I will do my best to write this chapter over.

I am so upset. It was, by far, the best chapter I have ever written. I was pleased with it. Edited it little. And now, it is lost. Never again to be reclaimed. I shall breathe out my frustration and move on. I hope this chapter does not now disappoint you as it will me.

My apologies for the late update. I would have done it last night but circumstances arose. Please read on.

:P

A knock on the door. Asa looked up from his book as the door creaked open. Maurice poked his head around the door.

"Have you seen Manfred?"

Asa shook his head. "He doesn't wake up until noon on weekends."

Maurice smiled, shrugged, closed the door behind him. "Well, it wasn't that important. It can wait. What are you working on?" Asa watched him carefully as he sat down next to him, leaning over Asa's literature book. A few strands of his dark, silky hair came to rest on Asa's hand.

"It's_Macbeth._"

"Yes." Asa watched his lips moving as he read the highlighted lines in the book, dark eyes flitting back and forth. He waited, trying not to inhale him. Whatever scent the boy was wearing, he smelled absolutely_appetizing_.

Maurice sat up straight slowly. Smiled. "I love _Macbeth,_" he said quietly. "The characters are all so… dysfunctional. Reminds me of my own family."

Asa laughed softly, half-relieved. Maurice wasn't quite so close anymore. He looked at Asa curiously. Asa turned back to the book and flipped a few pages, fingers trembling nervously. _He would have been a lot more 'friendly' if I hadn't been there._ He dismissed the thought, looked back through lines highlighted in green.

He glanced out of the corner of his eye at the white, slender hand resting on the table. Ignored it. "I don't really understand the whole killing Macduff's wife and kid, though… I mean, killing just for the hell of it, or…or what?" He could feel Maurice's fingers touching his hair softly, wrapping a lock of it around his finger. Bristling slightly, Asa brushed the hand away. Maurice caught Asa's hand in his own and brought it to his lips, velvet soft like rose petals. Half-hating himself, Asa pulled his hand away, stared out at the window.

"Please don't." When he looked up, Maurice's face had hardened into something cold and dangerous, the visage of the cruellest of angels. Maurice stared off at the wall where the portrait of the Red King hung.

"Sorry." Asa turned his gaze back to the book. "I can't help it—I don't think you have _any _idea how alluring you are, Asa." Asa stared determinedly at his book as the chair scraped back across the floorboards, and the door closed with a near-silent click, the click of a door being closed with strange self-control in fear of slamming and having it fall off its hinges in a faint.

Asa rubbed the back of his hand vigorously. Gathered up his books. He was going to go do his homework in Manfred's private study, where he could lock the door.

:P

Blearily, Manfred opened his eyes to the dim, flirty light peeking in from behind his blackout curtains. He sat up slowly, breathing in a hiss as the cold air stung his bare skin. A knock. His head turned slowly in the direction of the door, hardly remembering what it was for.

Another. "Yggh…" He cleared his throat. Damn early-morning frog voice. "Yeah, just a second." He pulled on a pair of black flannel lounge pants and shuffled over to the door, tying the strings. "Manfred?" He pulled open the door at last. It was Asa, wide-awake and smiling.

"Ah,_there_ you are! Morning, Sunshine!" Glaring his I'm-not-awake-yet glare, Manfred pulled the door open for Asa to come in. Asa plopped down on the edge of the bed, tracing the gilt thread quilting with his finger.

"Homework done, then?"

"Yeah." Asa looked up at him, smiled as Manfred blinked blearily in the dim light. "It's lunchtime. Thought I'd wait for you and we could go together."

Manfred nodded, grabbed an outfit from his wardrobe and stomped off to the bathroom to shower. Asa lay back on the bed, closing his eyes, listening to the _shhh_ sound of the water hitting the tub, the clink of the curtain hooks hitting the metal bar they hung on. He debated whether to tell Manfred…or have Manfred made dead sure Maurice wouldn't wake up tomorrow morning. Or the morning after. Or any morning after that?

No. The boy had enough blood on his hands already. Asa thought of poor Macbeth, going mad with power and prophecy and the blood staining his soul. No. The boy was deranged enough already. It didn't matter anyway. Maurice had left, hadn't he? When Asa had asked him to stop?

No, he'd just let it lie. The bed shook a little, and Asa smirked, but left his eyes closed. A soft weight settled onto his hips and something dripped onto his face. He winced. "Have a good shower, Manfred?"

The dark chuckle he loved so much. "Yes… it was." Asa parted his lips as Manfred's warm lips pressed against them. Manfred was still warm from his shower –he took them scalding, actually—and Asa relished the feel of the hot flesh against his icy skin. He kissed Manfred hungrily, almost desperately, as if he felt some insane need to clear himself of secret sins, his sins of halfway wanting to let Maurice finish what he'd tried to initiate… no. Quit thinking about it.

Manfred's warmth seeped through Asa's thin tshirt. Mm, God, he was always cold like that. He needed Manfred to warm him up. Manfred's fingers left a warm trace as he let his hands trail down Asa's cheeks, neck, tracing the contours of his chest… Asa grabbed Manfred and held him close, warming slowly of his own accord. He smiled against Manfred's lips, pressing his hands into Manfred's back. He enjoyed the Manfred's shock at the inhuman coldness.

Manfred pulled away quickly, reflexively, then laughed. "Why do you always do that?" Asa looked at him, a pout on his lips, and reached up to pull him closer again. Manfred pressed his lips into Asa's neck. "You're so cold…" He reached for Asa's cold, cold hand and let his lips drift over the palm.

"Then warm me up." Asa smiled deliciously as Manfred pushed him back onto the bed, smirking.

"I will."

:P

He wasn't really seeing the book in front of him. The long, pale fingers floated over the pages, their beautiful woodcut illustrations done in the delightful round-faced style of the 1800s. Of course, the pictures themselves weren't much delightful.

There wasn't much delightful in _The Hiftorie of the Blaque Artes_, but anyway. He wasn't thinking about anything in the book. Not even his favourite subject could hold his attention. The turn of a page distracted him and he thought of Asa again. Those sweet golden eyes, with almost snakelike slits…that soft red hair…A slight grin graced his lips. _Delicious._

Manfred's Asa, of course. Wasn't much sense in thinking that he was available, or anything. However… He leaned his head back onto the high back of the cushy armchair, reached out for a slim flute of wine on the table next to him.

It didn't make him mad, being rejected like that. Not really. It actually made him feel more fierce, a little more predatory…he would go after his prey with a passion unprecedented. It made him want it more. And _boy,_ did he want it. He sighed softly, thinking. It had been ages since he'd been rejected, period. Not for years…

He sat back in the chair, wondering, half dreaming, half plotting. Yes, this would be interesting. A devilish smile revealed bright white teeth, which seemed to flash dangerously even in the dim shade of the library. "Can't wait," he muttered to himself, darkly, and then laughed loudly, causing the snowbirds to start and fly away from the windowsill. He swilled the wine around in the flute, and then finished it in one swallow. Ohhh, yes. _This will be fun._

:P

End Ch. 7

:P

I'm really disgusted with myself, and my computer. The chapter I had written previously was unprecedented. It was _perfect._ I just can't… recapture any of it in this one. I feel really _super_ let down. By me.

But let me know what you think, anyway. I just… God, I wish my computer wasn't a loser. ;.;


	8. Eight

Chapter 8 Scars

_By Twelve du Lac-deFamine_

Based off the Children of the Red King books by Jenny Nimmo

Notes: Wow. It's been ages. I found this sitting all by its lonesome on my floppy disk. (eep!) I still have not graduated (grr!) and have not gotten my laptop (double grr!) but it will be so come June. So. I shall probably resume/finish Scars at that time. Until then... I'm going to try to keep my sanity, and work on chapters as they come to me. / I'm sorry about the crazy lapses, but life hasn't been kind.

Oh, and Ayanami? Thanks for cheering me on, always. :) This one's for you, babe.

:P

Chapter 8.

:P

It was hard, honestly. Really hard. Trying not to bother Asa was such a burden. It was all he could do to restrain himself when all he wanted to do was to reach out and twist a lock of that copper hair around his fingers, let himself get lost in those honey-coloured eyes. And more than that… he tried to stay away, but it only made him want to completely ravish Asa and make him forget how he felt about Manfred…

After all. That skinny bastard. What did he have that Maurice didn't? He was scrawny, with skin so pale it was almost translucent, eyes so black they held no emotion… and sometimes he disappeared into his room for days with some excuse like his condition was making it hard for him to function normally. Maurice snorted, glaring out the window in the tallest tower room.

He left Asa alone too much. Did he not want to protect Asa from anything that could possibly harm him? Maurice's eyes drifted over the hills, dead with leafless trees and innocently white with snow. It had snowed early this year… how could he possibly love Asa as much as he seemed to boast he did? When there were creatures like that Joshua and those freaky doll twins prowling about…allowed to do as they list?

It made him angry. Really, really angry. Manfred didn't deserve him at all. Maurice narrowed his glare. Well. We're just going to have to do something about that, aren't we?

:P

Asa watched the other children file into the dormitory, hair wet and voices at a murmur, sleepy and ready for bed. "Hurry up!" he barked to two stragglers. Tancred and Lysander frowned at him, but didn't say anything. They didn't want detention. They shuffled quickly into the room. Matron whisked by him, barked "LIGHTS OUT!" and flipped off the light.

"Don't take too long, Asa. If you're still in the halls at eleven, you'll get a detention."

"Yes, Matron." The old lady skittered down the hall to yell at the other dormitories. Asa grabbed a towel and his soap from his dresser and strolled down the hall to the showers. After he'd descended the stairs, he stopped. Looked around quickly. Funny. He frowned. He thought he'd seen some dark shadow flick past. Oh, well. Better be careful, though.

Asa checked behind him every once in a while to see if he was being followed. He couldn't quite shake the feeling that there was someone behind him. His heart beat quickly, as if it too felt it was being followed…

:P

Ah. Quiet warmth. No loud voices or snapping towels, no splashing water…yes. It was much better taking a shower at night when no one else was up. Asa stepped out of his clothes and wrapped a towel around his waist as he started the water. It was cold at first, but grew warmer eventually. Unlike Manfred, Asa couldn't stand scalding showers. Warm was really all his cold skin could take.

He sighed contentedly as he worked his coconut-scented shampoo into his hair. Yeah. This was great, great, great. The week's tension seemed to be melting away out of his shoulders and carried down the drain. He stopped. Squeezed the suds out of his hair as quietly as possible. Sloshy footsteps carried across the room. Suddenly a low hum warbled out some unnamed melody. The voice was dark and deep and seemed to be oblivious to the sound of water splashing down onto the floor tile.

_Shit!_ There was not a worse time for him to show up, was there? _Here I am trapped in this stall, completely defenceless, and worse yet, there is no way for me to transform. I can't even reach the lightswitch from here!_

The footsteps stopped outside the curtain. "Is there someone here?"

"Just me," Asa said over the roar of the water, hoping and wishing he'd just go the fuck away. _The way he looks at you is predatory. I've seen it before. You wouldn't be halfway safe alone with him. _For half a second, Asa wondered if Manfred had been merely overly jealous and paranoid.

"You're here late, Asa."

"Yeah. It's less noisy." Go away, go away, go away….

"Hmm…" Asa hardly heard it over the water. He rinsed out the shampoo, and reached for the bodywash. It was gone from its perch on the soap ledge. "That shampoo smells good, Asa, what is it?" Asa stopped, a tingle running down his spine. Rivulets of water slid down his back, becoming cold where they hit the air.

"Um, coconut…?" Asa poked his head out from behind the curtain. "Have you seen my soap…?" The question died on his tongue. Maurice's face was two inches from his own, smirking.

"All the other showers seem to be broken, Asa dear, mind if I share yours?" Asa glared.

"Actually, I do." Maurice glowered back, and grabbed Asa's wrist, wrenched it off the curtain, pushing him back.

"Well, that's just too damn bad, now isn't it?" he growled. For the first time in his life, Asa realised he couldn't fight Maurice. Punching him had the effect of slapping a brick wall. Asa's vocal cords had failed him. The ability to cry had left him years ago. All he had left was resignation and the cold tile on his back.

He closed his eyes.

:P

"Asa? What's wrong?" The wolf boy shook his head. Manfred closed the door behind them and locked it. "Another nightmare?"

Again, Asa shook his head. He scribbled something on a scrap of paper from the desk and sat down on the edge of the bed, wincing. Manfred took the paper. Looked up. "Of course you can stay here tonight." Something dawned on him. "You can't talk?"

Asa shook his head again, no. He bit his lip and looked around skittishly, as if something were going to leap out of the shadows at him.

"Who did this to you?" Asa merely looked at him, solemnly, then down at his hands, which were folded in his lap. He sighed. Manfred was livid. "_He_ did this to you, didn't he?" He reached for Asa's shoulder, but the boy shrank away from his touch. "My father told me he wasn't endowed." Asa pulled back one of his sleeves to reveal his wrist, bruised almost black on the inside. Manfred's face softened. "Asa, do you want ice or something for that?"

Asa nodded, then tapped his shoulder, too. Manfred sighed. "Okay. I'll be right back. If I run into him on the way down, I'll kill him for you, okay?" Asa smiled painfully. He nodded. "I'll be right back," Manfred said again, and disappeared out the door. Asa locked it behind him. No sense in leaving himself unguarded again tonight.

He'd already tried talking. All that came out was the sound of normal breathing and then he'd had a bit of a coughing fit. _Oh, God. Manfred doesn't know. Manfred doesn't know that he can bind people._ Asa squeezed his eyes shut. _I hope Maurice is asleep._

:P

Asa was dozing when Manfred returned with a couple of ice packs from Cook. Asa leaned back into a pillow, holding one against his shoulder and resting his wrist on the other. He smiled at Manfred, who looked apologetic. "He wasn't in the halls."

Asa shrugged, then winced as his shoulder smarted again.

"Just rest. We'll take care of it tomorrow." Manfred smiled, and Asa reached out to hold his hand. His mouth wasn't smiling, but his golden eyes were sparkling.

:P

Author's note from time chapter was written: "Thank God for snow days, right? Got this chapter fully written on Wednesday…it was icey and snowey and yucky. So I sat and typed all day. Yay! R&RS?"


End file.
